-> "Thank Satan I'm a City Boy"
Original Song Title:
"Thank God I'm a Country Boy"
(MP3)
Parody Song Title:
"Thank Satan I'm a City Boy"
The Lyrics
Well, life in the city is kinda like crack,
Ain't much an urban cowboy like me can't hack.
It's late to rise, early in the loo -- thank Satan I'm a city boy.
Well, a complex kind of life always did me lotsa harm,
Raising me a family and working like a charm.
My days are all filled with a hard Starbucks charge, thank Satan I'm a city boy.
Well, I got me a shitty spouse, got a bucking fusted fiddle.
When the sun's going down, I got cake on the griddle.
And life ain't nothing but a really fucked-up riddle, thank Satan I'm a city boy.
When the work's all done and the sun's setting low,
I pull out my fiddle and I break the fucking bow.
The kids are asleep so I keep it kinda low, thank Satan I'm a city boy.
I'd play Cuba Gooding Jr. all day if I could,
But the devil and my wife wouldn't take it very good.
So I fiddle when I should and I work when I can, thank Satan I'm a city boy.
Well, I got me a shitty spouse, got a bucking fusted fiddle.
When the sun's going down, I got cake on the griddle.
And life ain't nothing but a really fucked-up riddle, thank Satan I'm a city boy.
I wouldn't trade my life for Charmin or Depends,
I never was one of them "greedy to no ends."
I'd rather have my cistern and my smelly goddamn latrine, thank Satan I'm a city boy.
Yeah, country folk driving a damn horse and buggy,
A lotta fucking people thinking that it's a real truggy.
Son, let me tell you now exactly what I mean, thank Satan I'm a city boy.
Well, I got me a shitty spouse, got a bucking fusted fiddle.
When the sun's going down, I got cake on the griddle.
And life ain't nothing but a really fucked-up riddle, thank Satan I'm a city boy.
Well, my fiddle was my daddy's till the day he died,
And he took me by the hand and held me close to his side.
He said, "Live a crappy life and smash my fiddle with pride,
And thank Satan you're a city boy.
My Daddy taught me young how to shop and how to rob,
He taught me how to bawl and that my uncle was Bob.
He taught me how to hate and how to give a flying fuck,
Thank Satan I'm a city boy.
Well, I got me a shitty spouse, got a bucking fusted fiddle.
When the sun's going down, I got cake on the griddle.
And life ain't nothing but a really fucked-up riddle, thank Satan I'm a city boy.
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Voting Results
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Pacing: | 4.8 | |
How Funny: | 5.0 | |
Overall Rating: | 5.0 | |
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Total Votes: | 4 |
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Voting Breakdown
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